


Past Lives And A Hopeful Future

by BubblyCeci



Series: Past Lives [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates, Mpreg, Past Lives, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1214644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblyCeci/pseuds/BubblyCeci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The first time he dreamed and remembered he was six years old. There was nothing special about that evening, not in the lifetime of Genim ‘Call Me Stiles’ Stilinski. …But the twenty-first of December had been a significant day in one of his previous lives, the life of Simeon Prescott, who had been servant to a gentleman named David Heath sometime in the seventeenth century."</p>
<p>Stiles experiences two past lives, learns magic, and sees his mate in the grocery store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past Lives And A Hopeful Future

**Author's Note:**

> This is not Beta'd, and as such, all mistakes are my own.
> 
> I had a lot of alternate universe ideas, so I figured this was an easier way to go. Yeah. This could easily become a series- I have a solid idea about how each life would go, beginning to end, so who knows?
> 
> Anyway. In this, when Stiles sees Derek, he hasn't met Kate yet. She isn't even dream to him, since in my headcannon, she met and seduced Derek when he was 15 almost 16, and I imagine him to be (just turned) 14 in this story. And as he met Stiles before Kate, everything would happen differently and have a happy ending with love and family and no fires or death. Well, besides hers.

            The first time he dreamed and remembered he was six years old. There was nothing special about that evening, not in the lifetime of Genim ‘Call Me Stiles’ Stilinski. …But the twenty-first of December had been a significant day in one of his previous lives, the life of Simeon Prescott, who had been servant to a gentleman named David Heath sometime in the seventeenth century.

            _Simeon gasped at the sight, big honey eyes sparkling as he ran a reverent hand over the fine swan feathered cloak. He wanted it, wanted it so bad because it would mark him as_ his _, but the other servants were suspicious already. They knew he had a patron, knew he had been taken as a wealthy person’s lover, but they all assumed it was a woman. The cloak, the material, would prove them wrong, as David was the only person of wealth in the area that was known to favor the animals’ skin and was not courting. He frowned and pulled his hand back to his lap, sensual thin lips turning into mere lines, and David’s expression of open adoration changed to something sour._

_“Not good enough for you, then?” he snarled, plush lips he loved kissing swollen and bruised curling and baring his teeth. His green-blue eyes flashed bright blue, and Simeon gasped as his lover snatched the cloak away to hold in his clawed hands. “Become so spoiled something like this isn’t worth anything. Don’t want to be mine? That’s fine.”_

_He felt tears prick at his eyes, turning them from a light honey to dark whisky, and he shook his head furiously. His lover’s attitude was startling- it was like he had done a complete about face. Yes, David had been quiet before, reserved and prone to fits of frustration, but such anger? He had never seen his lover wear it, and not towards him._

_He lurched to his feet and wrapped his lean arms around the gentleman, turning his face upwards towards the man’s. “Please,” he pleaded his lover, ghosting his lips along the strong jaw and desiring nothing more than the man’s happiness while unsure how to get it back. “I want it, want to declare myself as yours forever, but I- they are suspicious, and with your known liking for swan feathers, they would know and have us killed for our trysts. You know this, David, know how much it kills me to act as nothing more than your servant when I’m your mate, when you’re mine, but there is nothing I can do!”_

_The man’s harsh glare softened, and his muscled arms snaked around Simeon’s slender waist. He felt the nose brush against his high cheekbones, move to his neck and stay, the puffed breaths making him shiver. Scent marking, he remembered David explaining, another of his wolf’s ways to mark him as pack._

_They swayed in silence for minutes, the flickering fire from the fireplace bathing them in quiet light, before David sighed and pulled away to hold him at arm’s length. His face was concerned when he spoke, thick brows furrowed. “I should not have taken my anger out on you when you are not the cause. I apologize, love.”_

_He gave him a half-smile back and raised a trembling hand to cup at the stubbled cheek. His voice wavered, still upset at whatever caused his lover to snap so angrily at him. “It is okay, David, it is. I just- what has caused you to worry to the point of showing your wolf? The times you do so in front of me are rare.” It was true- the only times he saw the more feral side of his mate were in their bed or the full moons._

_His lover’s frown deepened, and he looked away. “The head of the Argent family contacted me a fortnight ago to tell me the betrothal contract between myself and his daughter is still in effect,” he whispered, tone anguished, and Simeon felt his heart stop, heard his own gasp of pain. The corded arms of David returned around him, tighter than before. “I have gone through it over a hundred times, looking for a way to escape the bond, but it is solid. I-I have to marry the woman.”_

_His breath stuttered to a stop, and the tears returned with a vengeance. He heard more than felt his knees crack against the stone floor of his lover’s chamber as he collapsed. His vision started to blur until the grounding force of his mate’s touch allowed him to collect himself._

_“’M sorry,” he gasped out between pants. He hadn’t had such an attack- Devil’s Fits, the physician called them- in years, and he felt guilt override his embarrassment. If he was sick at the thought of his only uniting, even by force as it was, with another, he could imagine how the werewolf was feeling- desperate, sick, frustrated at being unable to defend against the threat, defeated at the thought of failing his mate…_

_“It is going to be fine,” was whispered against the silky softness of his hair. The inflection reflected his own feelings of hopelessness, and he forced himself to nod. Reassurance would help them both, belief founded or not. “I will find a way, love. I swear to you, I will find a way for us.”_

_His gut clenched, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that, no, he wouldn’t. Whatever storm was on its way, they would not be able to weather. Still, he nodded again, winding his hands into his lover’s thick hair and dragging him down for a biting kiss._

Stiles related the dream to his mother the next morning, staring at her with serious honey eyes, and she told him. She told him how people like him, people like her, who had a spark of magic lodged in their souls, remembered their other lives. She said the dreams were of his past selves, and that he would have more as time went on. And when he mentioned David and their relationship, she smiled and whispered that the man was likely to be his soul mate, his _one_ and _only_ , words echoed from the mind of his past life.

 

…

 

The second time he dreamed, it was night of his seventh birthday, and two weeks after the first. Exhausted from his party- okay, gathering, considering it had just been his parents, Scott, and Mrs. McCall- he tumbled into bed without a word of defiance. The words his mother said several months before echoed in his head as he tumbled into another remembrance.

_Seth Jameson’s tapered fingers stoppered the glass bottle, the man glad once again for the candles he had procured earlier that day. The cave glowed with an eerie light, casting half his delicate boned face in shadow, and the dark curtain nailed into the walls around the entrance cut the workspace off from the rest of the world- or, rather, his corner of the world, a small village in the colony of Pennsylvania. Shooting his brother in all but blood a quick glance, he grabbed another empty bottle and began pouring, the gold liquid flowing slow and thick like honey._

_Solomon’s dark eyes were wide with fear, his skin- tanned from years of farm work- paler than ever before. The boy was worried, that much was true. Unlike the others, however, he didn’t fear for himself. The lad was anxious for his pack, and rightfully so. Still, as the only one capable of fixing the mess, he felt the need to sooth._

_He gave the younger man a half-smile, his thin lips curling up into an understanding grin. “Worry not, Sol,” he reassured, keeping his focus on the potion. It was the one thing that could save him, save them all. “The Brits will not attack until just before dawn, and that will be hundreds of miles away. We have time.”_

_“Yes,” the man admitted, hesitant. His thin brows furrowed, and his crooked jaw- set uneven because the damn mundanes couldn’t know he had the power to heal- clenched. He paused before continuing, voice stilted, steeped in concern, “But what about Devon? He- I know you said not to think of him anymore, but he is our Alpha.”_

_“He made his decision,” Seth spat, light eyes going dark with righteous anger and sorrowful devastation. His heart ached, the dull throbbing he had judiciously ignored flaring back to life, and his slender chest heaved with the effort to calm. “He abandoned us, Sol, abandoned the pack. He abandoned_ me _.”_

_The last word was said in a whisper, so vulnerable and raw, it made Solomon’s instincts scream. Hunt, they roared, kill. It went against his very being, allowing the reason for his Alpha’s mate’s hurt survive, even if the cause was the Alpha himself. But he was unable to do anything, their hands tied for the moment. So instead of going on the hunt, he wrapped lean arms around his packmate, knowing the contact would help ease the pain._

_“He made his decision,” the male witch whispered, sinking back into his brother’s embrace. His heart still thudded in his chest, every beat reminding him of what he lost, but the comfort was so that he could move forward. He would get his pack to safety if it was the last thing he did- and it was likely to be, given that mated pairs never survived long without the other, but he would try and make it longer. He had to. “I will bear the consequences of his actions, as I agreed to when I took the mating mark, until I can no more.”_

_The werewolf whimpered, eyes flashing Alpha red in the dark- he may have submitted to another, but his status never changed. His voice was harsh and hate-filled when he broke the quiet. “I despise her. I do, without doubt. But, Seth, I hate him more. He knew it would end like this, from the very beginning of this thrice damned war, didn’t he?” Seth refused to speak, and he roared his question again, the power of his position filling it. “Didn’t he?”_

_“I_ _don’t_ know _,” was the broken reply, gasped out from crimson bitten lips. Tears filled the abandoned mate’s eyes, and he curled into himself, hands cupping his slightly distended stomach- and damn if that wasn’t Devon’s fault as well. The Alpha should have known tapping in to his spark would allow his body to change, accommodate his mate and the needs that accompanied his position. It was laughable, what with how often he and his father aided unmarried mothers, that he would become heavy with child and abandoned by his own man._

_“He tried to be strong,” he continued, rubbing at the growing bump. His eyes clenched close, and he felt his packmate’s arms tighten, showing he was there for whatever he needed. It made his heart burn more, reminded him of all the times Devon would do the same. “He told me he’d take care of it, of Kathleen, and I-I trusted him, damn it all! I honestly thought he loved me enough to kill the bitch. Can you believe it? I thought he was going to end her life before she told her family about the pack,_ andhe turned coat _.”_

_“He- he doesn’t even know I- we have a child on the way, Sol. I was saving it, wanting to celebrate our gift after the threat was gone, and he…” Seth choked, welling tears spilling down his cheeks. His breathing stuttered before increasing to a panicked pace, heart rate skyrocketing. Only his brother’s grounding presence allowed him to reign in the fit before it got too far along._

_His voice cracked, but he needed to get it out, admit it to himself. He wouldn’t have the strength to carry on otherwise. “He married her. He has already bred her, and he joined forces with the king’s hunters, the redcoats. He hunted Isaiah down himself, hung him on poisoned claw and made us watch the life drain out of his body. He- he is not mine, Sol, not anymore. Kathleen, damn her to an eternity of hellfire, got him. She won- seduced him away from his goddamn_ soul mate _, Sol! His godforsaken soul mate.”_

_Solomon opened his mouth to speak- to sooth or angrily blame, he wasn’t sure- but his ears picked out the sound of heavy footsteps approaching their workplace, too measured to be Elise’s and too loud to be Bayard’s. He cursed low in his throat, quiet enough that the approaching stranger, if a fellow creature, would not be able to hear. Loosening his arms, he started gathering whatever he could get his hands on and throwing it into their bags, Seth following not a second later, his own hands trembling from both previous exertion and anxiousness._

_Together, they finished in minutes, and with a quick flick of Seth’s wrist, the cave was bathed in darkness once again. They fled._

Stiles told his mother of his vision with tears in his eyes because, no matter his age, he experienced the dreams of his past lives as if reliving them. He had felt the burning ache of betrayal in his past self’s chest, the fiery anger and crushing sadness his heart felt for Devon, the fierce protective urge towards his pack and unborn child, the rush of using his spark, everything. He even felt the resignation as his past self, Seth, acknowledged that his soul mate no longer desired him.

When he told his mother that last part, she sighed and held him close as he cried, rocking him close to her chest. When his sobs turned to hiccups and whimpers, she told him that nothing could break apart soul mates- nothing- and that to try was suicide. She spoke over his arguments, repeating his own words back to himself- how Seth knew he wouldn’t survive long without the man, no matter his resolve.

Later, after calming, he begged her to teach him. He needed to know how to use his spark. He needed to be ready for his soul mate, whenever they were destined to meet, and for whatever hardships would come their way because, he cried out, he couldn’t bear to feel such overwhelming negative emotions again.

She agreed.

 

…

 

Over the course of the next three years, he experienced more dream-visions, though they were not of new-old selves. They featured Simeon and Seth, key moments in their lives- Simeon and David first making love and sealing the mating bond, for example, or Seth dying from both complications and heartbreak after his witchdoctor c-sectioned his child into the world while Devon, whom had burst into the room seconds before, pleaded for him to live. And while his mother claimed it odd- he, as they found, was powerful, greatly so, and such powerful souls were often _old_ in the sense of having many past selves- they theorized that more lives would introduce themselves over time, on dates that correlated with important events in their lives.

His lessons went very well, and he was so thankful for his mother’s schooling. By his tenth birthday, he was finished- ADHD could be an inhibitor or an enabler. He had wanted to celebrate, but his mother objected under the reasoning that his father didn’t know about their world and would be in danger if he did. After a moment of consideration, he agreed and asked for a blank journal instead- he wanted to start his book of shadows.

A week later, he was awoken from another dream about Seth- his first meeting of Devon had been hilarious- by his mother asking him to accompany her to the store. As they were scouring yet another aisle, Stiles’ big honey eyes caught a flash of green-blue he would recognize anywhere- David-Devon-his soul mate’s own eyes. Gasping, his thin body whirled to catch a glimpse of the other boy, seeing only the back of his black-haired head and strong frame on the opposite end of the lane. He was slouching next to another person- his own mother, judging by her similar hair and facial features.

He turned back to his mother, a slender hand clenching into the silky fabric of her shirt and tugging. Once her attention turned to him, he pointed towards the pair and whispered, voice happy, “That’s him, mom. That’s my mate, I know he is. He looks just like David and Devon did! Well, younger, but it’s him. I-I can _feel_ it.”

He realized when he said it, it was true. His spark was pulling his attention over to where the pair were whispering, urging him to make contact with his mate and show him he was worth being the center of his world. The awe he felt must have shown on his face, because his mother laughed, long and loud, drawing the pair’s attention.

“Genim,” she spoke, volume normal. He glared, and she rolled her honey eyes, resting a palm on his short chocolate hair. She repeated, “Genim. A young witch you may be, but you have both completed your training and have had dreams of your mate- your werewolf mate. You know their capabilities.”

“Yeah, like knocking me up!” he huffed out, arms flailing. “I had to find that out through Seth, mom. Seth. And since I didn’t learn about it again during training, I’m guessing they haven’t added it since his day.”

His mother giggled, and he gave her an annoyed look. His tone was stern when he said, “That’s not funny. You try learning about that at seven and see how you feel. It was the reason I had reservations about grooming my spark, and if I didn’t think I needed it, I wouldn’t have! Experiencing pregnancy through Seth was horrifying enough.”

“You don’t want children, then?” she questioned, hand over her mouth. Hiding her smile, he thought, sour. “And the reason for it not being documented, well, one needs to have power for it to happen. A lot of power, Genim. It is scary, but you may be the single male witch in our community with the juice to do it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he countered, thin lips curling down. It really didn’t- they should document the possibility, if nothing else, dammit. “If it is possible, they should make note of it. And, well, it’s not that I don’t want any, it’s that I don’t want to go through a pregnancy like he did. I don’t think I could handle that- not again. I want to have my mate by me during it, unlike he did with Devon. Because that sucked, and I died- or, he died, but since he’s my past life, does that mean I died? Or can we be considered separate entities? Then again, I have the same soul he did, so is he me and I him? But I could develop a totally different personality and live a vastly different life, so… At any rate, kids. Yeah, I would like at least one in the future. The far future.”

“How old are you again, Genim? Thirty?” she chuckled, shaking her head in an exasperated manner. She glanced up at the now alone wolf- her son’s mate’s mother- staring at them in unmasked curiosity, and she gestured her over with a tilt of her head before turning back to her son, whom was glaring at her again. “What? I’m giving you an opening.”

He narrowed his gaze further before smoothing his expression and looking over to the older woman joining them. He allowed a charming smile to lift his lips. “Hi,” he whispered, nerves ripping through him despite his outward calm.

The woman’s answering smile was beautiful, all teeth and crinkled eyes. His mate took after her, looked quite a bit like her, actually. Their eyes were the same green-blue of the ocean on a cloudy day, and their cheekbones were both high and prominent. And their smiles were so alike, it was disconcerting. His eyes roamed over her, taking in the similarities and differences, before looking back into her eyes and noticing her pointed, amused expression. He flushed pink and ducked his head, glancing at her from under his lashes.

“Hello to you, too, child,” she murmured, taking in his appearance as well before noting his mother moving down a ways, giving them a chance to speak amongst themselves. “I couldn’t help but overhear you and your mother, and some of what you spoke of made me curious. You say my Derek is your mate?”

“Oh, yes,” he breathed, honey eyes widening and his heart beat steady. His body moved with him, giving his words force. “I am a witch, you know, so I have dreams of my past lives, and your son, _Derek_ ,” the name was pronounced with affection, she noticed, amused, “well, I’ve seen him in them. He is my soul mate, and has marked me as his mate in all of them, and I can feel the pull in my magic and body now since I’ve seen him, and- and I really want to get to know him, you know? I need to, and it’s scary because I’m only ten, but I can’t help it and kind of don’t want to, to be honest, because he is my only. He is the one every text my kind speaks of when they say ‘true love’ or ‘soul mates’ or ‘life mates.’”

The woman blinked once, twice, before chuckling. Her hand carded through his hair, and she drew him close while bending down to speak more on his level. Her voice was rough with emotion when she said, “Thank you, child. I don’t think you know how worried I was that he would never find his mate, and now to find that he not only has one but one of such power and strength of character… How about a formal introduction- Genim, was it? I cordially invite you, Genim, and your mother to the Hale residence, at eight in the evening three days from now, for dinner.”

He gasped again and threw his thin arms around her middle. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he cried, squeezing tight. He jumped away after a moment, darting to his mother. “Mom, mom, Mrs. Hale invited us over to her house so I can meet my mate. His name is Derek, mom, _Derek_. How awesome is that? ‘People’s ruler.’ Makes sense since his mom is the Alpha, I suppose, ‘cause someone…”

The conversation petered off as their pair moved on to another aisle, the boy’s mom giving the other woman a warm smile.


End file.
